


dj got us fallin' in love

by bibliophilo



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Clubbing, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:09:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4985965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliophilo/pseuds/bibliophilo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shun's certain he won't enjoy himself at this dime a dozen nightclub his friend has dragged him to. Yuuya's equally determined to prove him wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dj got us fallin' in love

**Author's Note:**

> fic/art trade with a friend although tbh I don't know what the arrangement's like anymore
> 
> here is 4k words of shun and yuya softcore fucking in a restroom stall (working title: sha(wt)y get down)

Yuuya moves like he was born to the stage (and considering his parentage, this is at least half-true), commanding awed attention with ease as he carves a fluid path through the tight press of bodies (ditto).

Shun isn't entirely sure what he's doing here himself; he's long since made his peace with the various oddities and social events being Sakaki Yuuya's friend entails, but he's never been the one asked to accompany him to a nightclub until now. They've been here nearly two hours already, during which Yuuya has accepted a fair few invitations to mash his body alongside countless others; meanwhile, Shun's been firmly perched at the bar refusing all but soft drinks and absently glowering at other patrons, out of force of habit more than anything else.

Another extraordinarily  _loud_  English pop song starts up, half-familiar like a long-past holiday and really more  _felt_  than  _heard_  as Yuuya decides this is a prime opportunity to return to the bar and forcibly drag Shun out onto the dance floor. For all his (lack of) height and deceptively small frame, Yuuya has a sort of unassuming strength honed through years of acrobatic training and belied by his wide, innocent eyes and still-childish mannerisms, and Shun has had cause to regret every time he's forgotten this.

Shun scowls down at him, arms welded firmly in a defensive position across his chest. He knows Yuuya can read fluent scowl even if he can't (for want of a better word) speak it, but the boy seems to have chosen tonight of all nights to ignore Shun's slanted eyebrows and wrinkled nose and – most tellingly – the downturned corners of his mouth.

"Yuuya," Shun says instead, hoping to convey extreme displeasure and only half-hearted threats of physical violence through two syllables. " _Yuuya,_ " he repeats, for good measure.

The drumbeat thumps heavily through his feet as Yuuya beams up at him in total incomprehension, laser lights playing over his face as he says something easily drowned out by the music. Shun's customary frown deepens a little as he leans in to hear him better.

"Yuuya, you'll have to–" He leans in further still, his attempts to be communicative rewarded with a warm, barely-there brush of soft lips and breath against the shell of his ear, just before Yuuya bellows into it.

"Oh, come  _on_ , Shun, it'll be fun! Don't tell me you've never even  _wanted_  to try this before!" Yuuya fails to catch Shun's grimace when all he can see of him is his ear and smooth hair, but he does falter a little at Shun's pointed lack of response.

"Oh, right… I guess you haven't." He steps away, running his hand through his hair and looking abashed. "That's – well, you don't have to if you don't  _want_  to…" He trails off, fidgeting guiltily as Shun stifles an irritated groan and leans in again. Yuuya obligingly repeats himself, although it sounds somewhat less contrite when yelled at point-blank range. Shun heaves a pointedly long-suffering sigh before reaching out – not that he has to reach very far at all – to grip Yuuya's upper arms. To his satisfaction, his companion stills immediately, only inhaling quick and quiet at the sudden contact and probably getting a noseful of hair for his trouble. The thought cheers Shun quite a bit, really.

"Stop talking," he orders sternly. He  _hates_  it when Yuuya gets like this, all sad-eyed and mopey like someone's just kicked one of his mother's dogs. (He can't actually see Yuuya's face, but he knows what it probably looks like right now and he knows how he'd prefer it to look.) Shun sighs, relenting; he really can't refuse Yuuya anything, and maybe it wouldn't be  _too_  bad, after all.

Maybe.

"One dance, alright?  _One._ " He can hear, nearly feel the tell-tale intake of breath against his skin. " _Don't talk._  Let's just get this over with." He releases Yuuya's biceps and steps back to a more appropriate distance; Yuuya's smile (gratified and relieved and a bit like looking into the sun) makes him a little less and more nervous at the same time, so it evens out.

Before he can change his mind, Yuuya whirls around with renewed enthusiasm and leads the way to a slightly more secluded spot near the edge of the laser-lit throng, presumably so that Shun won't be  _too_  uncomfortable. Even with his uncanny ability to command a crowd, it's slow going, and he glances back every now and then to make sure Shun's following.

The song changes as they near the fringe of the crowd and face one another, something a little less frenetic but just as heavy on the bass and volume. The subtle shift combined with the relative lack of patrons in their vicinity makes the ambience more intimate somehow, the air charged with a faint, unspoken  _something_  Shun doesn't care to put a name to. Yuuya opens his mouth to speak, catches his eye and closes it again, opting instead to get right down to business.

He is, as Shun is rapidly discovering, really rather good at being nonverbal.

Yuuya's narrow hips swivel in sync with the beat as he laughs with enough delight to brighten a deathbed. Shun makes a clumsy attempt to follow, gaze adamantly fixed on his feet as he tries not to trip or step on something he shouldn't, insistently  _not_  paying any attention to the way Yuuya's shirt occasionally rides up to expose a tantalising sliver of smooth waist and the sharp dip of his hipbone. He isn't entirely sure what to do with his hands, or if he's even supposed to do anything with them at all; is he allowed to touch, would it even be a good idea if he  _is_? Would it be more appropriate to grip Yuuya's shoulders, cradle his hands, paw at his waist?

Yuuya solves his dilemma by gently taking hold of his wrists – he hadn't realised he'd been keeping his fists clenched at his sides – and draping his hands over his hips. There's a lot less to hold there than Shun's used to; then again, he's only ever danced with his sister before, and they certainly hadn't been in a dim nightclub surrounded by gyrating patrons at varying levels of inebriation.

Shun's throat goes dry as he curls his fingers around Yuuya's waist, letting the rounded jut of bone nestle against the meat of his palm. He tries not to grip too hard, tempting as it is to dig his thumbs into the smooth flesh just above Yuuya's hips, maybe dip a little finger in the space where shirt hem and waistband only  _just_  fail to connect. Surely Yuuya can feel his hands trembling?

If he does, Yuuya doesn't show it. He keeps moving, hands flitting down from Shun's shoulders to brush over his coat-clad forearms, soft and warm as a lover's kiss. He steps slowly at first, allowing Shun time to catch up, gradually picking up the pace until Shun stops analysing his own shoes and looks him in the face instead.

Yuuya flashes him a stunning smile brimming with mischief and light and just a whiff of something else, or rather the tease of a  _promise_  of something else that makes a fluttering heat coil tight in the pit of Shun's stomach. Of course, it might be entirely his imagination, but he doesn't have time to properly consider this because they're still moving, laser lights illuminating flashes of flesh and fabric as the beat climbs into the chorus and Yuuya appears to be  _actually trying to dance Shun to death_.

Shun takes a minute or two to shut his eyes against the too-bright coloured lights scanning the throng, his imagination inexplicably echoing the phrase  _Ladies and gentlemen!_  in a familiar voice. He lost his grip on Yuuya's hips a little earlier but that doesn't matter; he's fine with fleeting touches that feel almost stolen in the darkness behind his eyelids, heightened senses magnifying each point of contact to nigh unbearable. Their hands brush, knees and shoulders bumping occasionally, and once, Shun feels the solid heat of Yuuya's chest pressed against his front before its owner slides away.

The drumbeat pounds out in Shun's chest now,  _boom-boom-boom_  heavy enough that he thinks his ribs could burst with the intensity of it. He's certain they've been dancing (or at least, Yuuya's been dancing and he's been shuffling his feet in time with the music) through at least two and a half songs now, but he doesn't have the heart to stop when Yuuya so obviously wants him there, stealing glances at Shun every so often to ensure he isn't actively contemplating homicide and is, in fact, enjoying himself considerably more than he lets on.

Shun would never tell Yuuya he hates it when he's right, if only because that would mean admitting Yuuya's ever been right about anything. It  _is_  sort of fun, although this sole experience is more than enough to slake any curiosity he may have had. Of course, having Yuuya for a dance partner certainly doesn't hurt; Shun still isn't up to much more than shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back again, but Yuuya's vivacity is more than enough for the both of them, with plenty left over for a small rave besides.

As if to prove his point, Yuuya improvises a dramatic swoon and Shun finds himself reflexively reaching out to catch him, fingers tightening around his shoulder as the back of his head rests in the crook of Shun's elbow. Yuuya's hand flutters against his own forehead, palm up and wrist limp as he coyly bats his eyelashes up at Shun, his other hand crooking a finger in a come-hither gesture. Shun automatically bends to comply; in the end, he really can't refuse him anything.

"Now you must sweep me off my feet and promise to take me away from all this," Yuuya informs him cheerfully, apparently unaware of the way his lips skim Shun's earlobe (which is growing redder by the moment, and Shun could almost swear he was doing this on purpose).

"I'm going to drop you," is Shun's unimpressed reply. Yuuya huffs a breathless laugh that tickles his skin, and he tries and fails to suppress a shudder.

Yuuya stops laughing, then. He raises the hand from his forehead to palm the juncture where Shun's neck curves into his shoulder, firm fingers pressing into his nape for balance as he slips out of Shun's arms and rights himself. He brings his other arm up slowly, hand sliding over Shun's sleeve and bunching the fabric of his coat, breaking contact altogether and finally halting in midair a hair's breadth from the small of Shun's back. Shun can almost feel the ghost of his handprint, hovering hesitantly as if waiting for permission.

This moment is significant somehow, but he can't for the  _life_  of him fathom a response; all there is is the warmth at his back, Yuuya's hand around the nape of his neck, Yuuya still flushed and breathless from earlier exertion, Yuuya standing close enough to kiss (or tread on his foot, both have presented quite tempting options tonight) –

_(the possibility that Yuuya wants him too)_

Plausible deniability is stretching thin, assuming it was ever an acceptable excuse in the first place.

It dawns on Shun that his hands have found their way home to Yuuya's waist entirely of their own volition; probably to help steady him as he got back to his feet, which… doesn't explain why he hasn't let go yet. He finally wrenches his focus away from his hands on Yuuya, unable to shake the warmth of Yuuya's hands on him, and dares to meet Yuuya's eyes.

There's a question there, the wording a little different from the one his hand at Shun's back is asking, perhaps, but ultimately the same. Yuuya must find the answer he's looking for somewhere in Shun's helplessly stupefied gaze because he visibly relaxes, exhaling long and slow, breath briefly heating the space between them before he steps forward to close it. Shun fancies he can actually  _feel_  the rise and fall of Yuuya's chest pressed against his own, maybe even sense the steady  _lub-dub_  of his heart through multiple layers of clothing.

Yuuya doesn't break eye contact once, the hand on Shun's neck sliding up to rest on his too-warm cheek. He cups Shun's face gently, tracing his cheekbone with his thumb, strangely tender following their previous heated exchanges.

Shun leans into his touch almost unconsciously, unable to resist or look away even if he wanted to. The heat against his back solidifies, burning like a brand in the wake of heart-pounding anticipation. Yuuya's eyes (red as blood or shining like rubies, sometimes, but now deep and dark as fine wine and every bit as precious) continue to scour his face, as if seeking constant reassurance that Shun does want this, that this is fine, that he won't regret this later.

Shun does move, then, lifting a hand from where it's made itself comfortable on Yuuya's hip, brushing his knuckles up Yuuya's neck in response and pausing under his chin. He ghosts his thumb over Yuuya's bottom lip, marvelling at the way his jaw automatically falls slack at the barest contact; he's tempted to push in and feel the bite and press of his teeth, to withdraw and smear sticky-hot moisture across Yuuya's skin until he looks as  _wrecked_  as Shun feels.

This seems to be the right answer, because all the warning he gets is a ragged, choked-off sound that could be anything from "please" to " _Shun_ " before Yuuya snaps, rising on his toes and angling Shun's head down to finally,  _finally_  slot their lips together.

Shun feels entirely too hot for his own skin; he's imagined kissing before, wondered what it would be like, but his hypothetical partner never had a face until Yuuya. It's awkward and a little scary at first, the sheer thrill of kissing and being kissed warring with  _am I doing this right? is my mouth too dry? oh no what if he's getting bored_  among a host of other concerns. Their hands wander as they nip at each other tentatively, cautious licks gradually turning into lazy swipes of Yuuya's tongue across the roof of Shun's mouth, Shun grazing Yuuya's bottom lip with his teeth in turn. Shun's eyes have fluttered nearly closed without his being aware of it; he forces them to stay open, not wanting to miss a second of the way Yuuya looks this close up, nose aligned with his and glints of scarlet peeking through his dark eyelashes.

With a jolt equal parts pleased and nervous, Shun realises that Yuuya's watching him the same way, anxiously observing him for the faintest sign of displeasure. He knows for a certainty that Yuuya would stop this, whatever  _this_  is, if there was any question of Shun's eagerness; this fact causes an inexplicable lump to form in his throat, and he swallows it down quickly. Yuuya must have felt this and taken it as a good sign because Shun can sense his lips quirking up at the corners, and the more Shun pokes at his waist to make him take this seriously and get back to kissing, the wider his grin gets, until Shun is essentially making out with Yuuya's incisors.

" _Yuuya_ ," Shun whines (which is  _beyond embarrassing_  and he'd like to pretend the word is inapplicable as far as he's concerned), finally disentangling his arms from the boy in question and stepping away to wipe stray saliva from his chin. Yuuya's practically hiccupping now, head thrown back and body trembling with suppressed giggles, and if anyone asks, Shun is definitely  _not_  reluctantly cracking a fond smile himself.

A clubgoer jostles him just then, apologising automatically and vanishing into the crowd as quickly as they'd come. Shun dimly registers the overdue pang of mortification;  _stupid, stupid, stupid_ , how had he forgotten they were still in public? What had they been thinking, necking in full view of the entire building?

From a brief sweep of the cavernous room, though, they seem to have gone largely ignored; perhaps blatant exhibitionism isn't uncommon in places like this after all. For his part, Yuuya appears entirely unconcerned, finally recovering from his laughing fit and reaching up to smooth his hair where Shun's mussed it. He turns back to Shun; the grin he sports now is conspiratorial and lascivious and would get him arrested if worn in daylit streets.

Shun's face flames, the simmering pressure low in his gut far from extinguished during their brief hiatus. Yuuya slinks back up to him, a pronounced sway in his gait now that he's certain of Shun's interest. He pauses directly in front of him, keeping just enough distance to maintain public decency but not enough for them to be viewed as anything less than intimate.

He reaches up with one hand and grazes a single finger up the column of Shun's throat, leaving a trail of tingling skin in its wake. Shun's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, mouth dry; Yuuya's finger circles it torturously before moving on to the suddenly hypersensitive skin under his chin.

Yuuya leans forward and Shun bends to accommodate him without thinking, already craving the heady pressure of lips and teeth and tongue. The finger on his lips brings him up short.

"Not here," Yuuya breathes, face barely an inch away from his, and for the first time tonight Shun has no trouble hearing him.

They must be the most transparent pair in the room, but nobody spares them a second glance as they stumble into the restroom together; frankly, Shun's certain there are more romantic (and hygienic) venues for this, but it's hard to think in specific terms when Yuuya's fingers are entwined with his, idly stroking the back of his hand.

The restroom is rather more quiet – music volume reduced from earsplitting to merely intolerable – and mercifully empty; Shun doesn't think he could bear the knowing leers any stranger would give them here. Yuuya picks what looks like the cleanest stall and tugs him inside, locking the door behind them. In this cramped space, the full implications of what they're doing finally settle in; unlike the crowded, heady atmosphere in the public chamber beyond, these close walls and lack of anonymous, disinterested audience allow no room for flimsy excuses.

Yuuya simply watches Shun and waits, daring him to make the first move this time.

Shun's never been one to turn down a worthwhile challenge. Consequences can wait; he's waited longer. He crowds Yuuya against the wall, cupping his face and angling it upwards as he chases the expectant grin off his lips.

Yuuya sighs and just about  _melts_  into him, hands coming up to circle Shun's wrists but making no effort to move them. Shun's hands splay against his temples, fingers stroking the rims of his ears, and he rolls his hips lazily against Shun's thigh as he nips playfully at his tongue.

Shun sucks in a sudden intake of breath as he registers the firm line of heat pressing into his leg. Yuuya's already more than half-hard from the feel of it, and Shun isn't exactly limp, either. He groans as Yuuya repeats the motion, breaking the kiss and stooping lower to mouth along the tense line of his jaw and down to his neck, while Yuuya releases his wrists to seize his coat collar and press him against the opposite wall in turn.

Back hitting the stall partition, Shun reaches down to palm Yuuya's ass and squeeze lightly, trailing a hand down one thigh and hooking Yuuya's leg around his waist. He manages to partially hoist him up, aligning their clothed erections and allowing much better access to Yuuya's flushed neck and  _delectable_  collarbones as Yuuya squirms and bucks against him insistently. This leaves Shun's hands entirely occupied but he's certainly not complaining, not with the way  _Yuuya's_  hands are free to paw at him, one popping the buttons on his coat and pushing fabric aside to slip in and scrabble at his thin shirt whenever their hips meet  _just so_.

Another hand tangles itself in his hair while he's busy laving the area behind Yuuya's ear, tasting the salt on his skin and moving lower to carefully bite down where his pulse thrums nearest to the surface – not hard enough to really hurt, but enough that Yuuya hisses through gritted teeth and  _pulls_. At the insistent tugging at his scalp Shun unlatches his lips from his neck and raises his head, breathing hard through his nose. Yuuya surges forward, crashing into him like a tidal wave on the shore, hauling him in for another kiss and grinding down and Shun rather belatedly realises  _oh my god he's having sex with Sakaki Yuuya_.

They eventually settle into a pattern, finding an intoxicating push-pull rhythm where Shun's fingers dig into the soft give of ass and thigh, Yuuya's taste is in his mouth and their combined gasps of pleasure ring in his ears and he doesn't care anymore, all his useless efforts to not fall for this boy who cares about everyone and so might as well care for no one ( _stupid, stupid_ ) thrown out the window together with his dignity as the pressure becomes  _too much, too much too much not enough_ _ **too much**_  –

He's vaguely aware of Yuuya still half-astride him, his own fingers clenching hard enough to bruise. His grip slackens as the aftershocks die away, letting Yuuya sort of slide-slither down his body back to the ground on shaky legs. Yuuya looks confused and incredibly anxious like he thinks he's done something wrong, maybe pushed too hard at some point and Shun didn't want this after all, but Shun's spared from explaining just how wrong he is when his searching red eyes sweep down, further down and finally alight on his crotch.

Shun turns his head away in utter mortification, wishing he could simply twitch his coat back into place and pretend he hasn't come in his pants just from frotting, but it wouldn't do any good now. Yuuya keeps  _staring_ , all worry vanished, hungry gaze darting from his face flushed with shame and sex to the spreading wet stain on the front of his trousers and back again, like he's absolutely spoilt for choice. He laughs without a trace of mockery, voice cracked and slightly breathless like Shun's finally  _broken_  him somehow.

"Oh,  _wow_ \- let me just-" When Shun makes no move to retreat, Yuuya draws closer and fists his hands in his coat in an approximation of their previous position, Shun's firm thigh slipping neatly between his legs. His face is tilted upwards and Shun thinks he might kiss him again, but Yuuya's eyes are screwed nearly shut and his rosy kiss-swollen lips parted, breathy gasps and moans ( _shunshun_ _ **shun**_ ) perfectly  _deliciously_  audible as he ruts desperately against Shun's trembling leg.

Shun wants to kiss him so badly it  _hurts_  but he can't bring himself to move, can only gawp with ragged breaths even as Yuuya's own thigh rubs almost painfully against his still-sensitive dick. His hands remain fisted at his sides (which is ridiculous, he's allowed to touch Yuuya now, he touched Yuuya all over just five minutes ago, Yuuya very clearly  _wants_  to be touched by him but his hands don't seem to know that even if his head does), but even without his crude fumbling it doesn't take very long at all before Yuuya jerks once, twice, hips snapping forward without restraint as he comes. He doesn't scream like they do in porn; instead his head is thrown back, baring the long, smooth curve of his neck (littered with hickeys like rich, dark jewels and Shun still has difficulty believing  _he_  was the one to bestow them), mouth falling slack in a choked gasp as Shun's name catches in his throat.

Shun does move then, reaching out to wrap his arms around Yuuya and hold him steady as he spasms and shudders and his legs give out underneath him. He lays Yuuya's head on his chest, leaning down to murmur reassurances in his ear ( _it's ok, it's fine, I got you_ ), burying his nose in Yuuya's mussed hair and dimly registering the twin scents of sweat and shampoo. Yuuya's white-knuckled grip on his coat never falters once.

As they sag against the wall to catch their breath, Shun feels a surge of guilt and shame; Yuuya deserves better, he knows, better than a dry hump session in a public restroom, quick and dirty as if they were beasts without self-restraint. The incredibly self-satisfied – albeit exhausted – expression on Yuuya's face reminds Shun that he was the one who started this, though, might have even been hoping for this all along. Now he doesn't know if he wants to punch the grin off his face or kiss it.

He does neither.

"Now what?" Shun breaks the silence, sticking to short sentences so he doesn't betray the anxiety coating his voice.

" _Now_  you scoop me up into your arms and make an honest man of me," Yuuya says matter-of-factly.

Shun can't refuse Yuuya anything. It's a terrible habit he should really be trying to break, but surely there's no harm if Yuuya sometimes wants the same things as him.

"I hate you," he complains instead, feeling a token show of resistance is necessary for the tattered remains of his dignity.

"You  _looooove_  me," Yuuya counters in a singsong voice. Shun considers this.

"Yeah," he mumbles at last, barely audible, "yeah, I do," and Yuuya's smile outshines the sun itself.


End file.
